Beloved Princess from the Alder Grove

I am lying, dreaming...
dreaming of your caresses
turning this winter of longing
into a perfect spring,
where, seating in the edge of the sea,
we touch each other, happily, eternaly
with the single satisfied soul we share.

I am lying, dreaming...
It rains outside, and sense doesn't exist.
The rain is the trunk
where I write your name
with the impossibity of our encounter.

I am lying, dreaming...
dreaming about your silhouette
and to the nature proclaiming
that the river of my love
has no end, has no mouth, has no delta,
and that everything comes together in a fire
that changed a me and a you
for the soft constancy of an us.